


What's In a Name

by Amaurotine



Series: At Long Last [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Masturbation, My First Smut, Penis In Vagina Sex, Self-Indulgent, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 09:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19850710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaurotine/pseuds/Amaurotine
Summary: ++++ Shadowbringers 5.0 MSQ Spoilers ++++In this filthy, darkness-aligned reimagination of the MSQ, Emet-Selch finds a new way to reawaken an old flame.This work is the first part of a series, beginning near the start of Emet-Selch's 'obervation' of the party. Shameless and self-indulgent. Enjoy, Ascian loving degenerates.





	What's In a Name

"Ah, the Warrior of Darkness returns!" the elven Manager of Suites smiles, offering up your room key. "Will you be making use of your quarters tonight?"  
  
"Yes..." you return the smile weakly, taking the key in your gauntlet. It's been a long day of "adventuring" - caring for all who depend on you. You're sure you look as bad as you feel.  
"Have a nice evening," he says with a bow as you mindlessly slog your feet up the stairs.

Things just haven't been the same for you lately. Maybe you were getting old, getting tired. Or maybe you were getting soft. Veteran of the Dragonsong War, not to mention TWO revolutions. But this time.... for the first time. You didn't feel much like a hero. You felt lost... lonely.

You drop your bag carelessly by the door , throwing your armor off haphazardly. Finally, you sink into bed. Even without all your armor on, you feel so very, very heavy.

Golden eyes, wreathed in smoke drift unbidden into your thoughts. That glib demeanor, all charm and mystery. _Damnit_ , you curse. _Forget him already._  
Did you leave your brain on the Source? Why did his wickedness tempt you so?  
  
Ever since Emet-Selch "joined" your party, you'd struggled to maintain your composure in front of the others. Earlier that day, in the Exarch's room after discussing strategy with the Scions, you approached him cautiously.  
"Tell me your true name," you had said, rather boldly in hindsight.  
  
Just as boldly, he stepped towards you, well into your personal space. All-too-casually, he ran fingers through your hair, drawling, "Ah... there may come a day when I reveal my true name to you..." _Get your hands off me_ , you'd meant to say, but the sensation paralyzed you, soft tingling scratches _far_ too enjoyable. You were touch-starved, to put it lightly, melting beneath his deft movements. Survival instinct kicked in, jolting your senses. You felt for your weapon and took a step back, looking up at his wicked grin. The awful, smug satisfaction.  
"Fine," you'd said, unconvincingly, struggling to recall how your legs worked. _How_ did this man, this evil creature, break through your defenses so easily?  
  
Now, in your private quarters, you are free to remember that touch. Your heart sinks as you realize others may have seen. _So what if they did_ , you think. _Just an Ascian being manipulative_. Too tired to consider implications, you'd rather bathe in the memory... how his touch felt _familiar_. How he'd surprised you with such tenderness.  
  
Thoughtlessly, you weave your hands under your smallclothes, separating your legs tentatively. Were you really doing this? Thinking of him in this way... Shouldn't some impulses _not_ be indulged?  
  
Your finger moves gently across your opening; wetness pools, and you arch your back, allowing yourself to probe deeper. You bite your lip with his face on your mind; how you strain to imagine him there. Your hand is such a poor substitute for...  
  
"Oh, Emet..." you choke out, hopelessly, imagining your own touch to be his. Hot drips of wet seep out of your aching pussy. "Emet, please..." Searing lust warms you, tormenting you. Overwhelmed with primal need, you grasp desperately onto the shadows that envelop you.   
  
But the shadows have weight... form, even. With a grasping hand, you catch on to something, something soft coalescing near you. Glancing just beside the bed, you see a man take shape and find yourself gripping a white gloved hand.  
  
Panic strikes you. You sit up, panting, pulling your hand away, taking a glove with it. "WHAT exactly... Why are you -" You stutter.   
  
"I like to watch," he says cooly, those perfect dark lips curling up. But you're still aroused, and your insides burn with anticipation. This is _terrible_ \- unfair, even, for him to ambush you like this... Your mind exerting so little control over what your body desires. You try to remember: _He is your enemy. Don't let him_...  
  
"What makes you think you can just barge in here... and..." You try, but your face is flush. There's no power behind those empty words, and the bastard knows it.  
  
"Now, now, I do believe you were calling out to me, hero," he leers, eyes flashing in the darkness. You force yourself to turn away. He's got no right to be that handsome. Fantasizing was one thing, but this.... Your mind races as you struggle to remember your duty. You're the Warrior of Light, remember?   
  
" _Really_. Must you always play the part...?" His words cut like daggers. Gods, he's right, you think, as you look back, seeing your adventuring gear strewn throughout the room. You remember how you felt today... so desperate for a selfish moment. You look to him, expecting mockery, but there's understanding there - a warm kindness that makes you feel safe. You sigh, and your muscles relax. Your hands work almost involuntarily, unfastening your bra's front button. The cool night air perks up your nipples, soft firm breasts splayed out comfortably. You feel his hungry gaze on you, and you can't help but return it. There's no denying what both of you want. But the _audacity_ ... Gods, it is refreshing.  
  
Deftly he slips off his coat and boots, letting them fall to the floor with your other things. You feel yourself giving in as he slithers onto you like a snake.  
  
Cupping your cheek in his ungloved hand, the honeyed sound of his voice makes you shiver - "Why don't you try being honest... for once, hm?"  
He brushes your hair back, eyes dark with lust. You feel your heart beating fast in your chest, his gloved hand stroking your stomach, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Wrapping your arms around muscular shoulders, delicate lips press into your own, silky soft and wet like rain. It's an honest kiss. A kiss that makes you feel whole... loved. Not the kiss of a one night stand, which is what you'd thought this was...  
  
Curious, you pull away, searching his features for a motive; but he seems harmless as a kitten now, stroking your cheek with the gentlest of touches. The answer is written all over his face. This man loves you.   
  
_No,_ you think. _You just met! He's had eons of practice! And in case you forgot, he's an ASCIAN!_   
  
Emet seems to catch himself, narrowing his eyes. Smoothly he purrs, taunting quietly, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies..." his voice trails off as he kisses your jawline. Ah, how easily you surrender, threading your hands through his silky dark hair. You bury your face in it, shamelessly, and gods, he smells wonderful - floral and sweet, but not overpowering, like lilacs on a spring breeze. Lilacs were always your favorite - was this all an elaborate trap?  
  
  
He rises to meet your gaze, and as you open your mouth to speak, he fills it with a possessive tongue. A gloved hand glides across your inner thigh, and you gasp; the words, whatever you'd wanted to say, fade from your mind, unimportant, lost under hot breath and sweet caress. By the Twelve, he feels good. _Why does this feel so right?_ He bites your lip, and without warning, a silky gloved finger penetrates fully into your dripping cunt.  
  
"Emet!" You moan through surprise and bliss, arching your back as your legs squeeze tight around him.  
  
You hear him chuckle against your skin as he leaves his finger inside you, tormenting you with the slowest of movements. Desperate for more, you buck your hips slightly, dragging your nails across his back. "Well, if you'll say it like that, my dear," he purrs, eyes glimmering in the dark. He lowers his head between your legs, and with hot breath against your sex, whispers, "Use my true name."   
  
You stammer out, "But - I...," squirming against his hand and tongue flicking across your clit. You feel your juices soak through his glove as he presses slow into you. For a moment, your mind's far away, and you almost feel you _d_ o know his name. But thinking is impossible now, while he sucks your delicious sex, his own breathing growing ragged. Your inner walls clamp around his finger and you shudder, on the brink... Cruelly, he withdraws.   
  
Sitting up on top of your legs, he wraps the soaked-through glove around his glistening, erect member. He's drinking in the sight of you: chest rising and falling fast, body beautifully flushed with pink, legs splayed, breasts heaving. Grinning, he slides off his glove, preparing to snap his fingers. "Seems I'll need to jog your memory." _**Snap.**_  
  
Suddenly, you're somewhere else. Grasping at the sheets beneath you, they're much softer than the Crystarium's, this round bed much more luxurious. Breathing deep, the smell of lilacs fills your senses once again; fresh purple flowers decorate the bedroom, which is floored in geometric marble. There's leather seating near a crackling fireplace; a rock-crystal chandelier, shaped like a sunburst; and glossy black sculptures of some sort of... dragon? You've never seen anything like it, yet it all screams _familiarity_. Sinking into the heavenly mattress, you are overwhelmed with comfort. Emet seems pleased with your reaction, slowly palming your flushed pink tits with his broad, loving hands. You moan, and his cock jumps as you do.   
  
Hovering over you now, those golden eyes penetrate your essence. One of his hands runs through your hair, just as it did earlier that day, and he descends for a warm, wet kiss. Wrapping your legs around his back, you pull him closer and the head of his cock slides easily inside you. He's breathing rough, and holding himself back, clearly watching your face for discomfort. Again, you're surprised by his care, his tenderness. Though your brain can't make sense of it, something deeper understands.

"Fuck me," you beg, tired of games, and his mischievous amber eyes darken.  
  
Wasting no time, he sinks fully into you, filling you forcefully to the hilt. Seated in you, he groans, "By Zodiark..."  
You almost cum then and there. Raking your nails across his back, he thrusts into your sopping cunt. Lewd, wet noises echo in the room and he sets a moderate pace, licking and nibbling along your neck. "Harder," you gasp, and shooting pain stings through you. Emet's teeth leave marks on your shoulder as his thick cock pounds inside. Agony intermingles with pleasure; a shameless sneer shows devilish lips stained red with your blood. Perverse enjoyment washes over you... How he looks like the villain now, the odd lock of white hair, now damp with sweat, falling forward as he fucks you mercilessly.   
  
Waving a hand over his face, a red Ascian glyph appears floating there. Fear may have gripped you some other time, but now, there is only trust. "Remember," he says, like an incantation; the word booms, deep and sonorous while his cock hits a sacred place deep in you.   
  
Ecstasy quakes through your body as your mind's eye fills with stars. Then, a memory: a dance; a waltz, plucked from the river of eons past. The Ascian, Hades, twirling you, laughing, joy in his eyes rather than pain.

"Hades..." you say, as if from a dream.   
  
The man above you cackles, knowingly, the orgasm still ripping through you.  
  
"Ah hah hah! Now you see," he croons, holding you tight as he pushes deep, your hands clutching the pillow behind. The Ascian glyph fades from his face, and your memory crystallizes, shockwaves of pleasure surging through still. "Say it again, _Persephone_ ," the name is like loose satin on his tongue, and you know it to be yours. How very like that dance this was, your intimate waltz beyond space and time. The rhythm, even now undisrupted; truth, heavy and beautiful, settles over you like snow. Time is nothing in this embrace, drowned in the memory of how you once lived.  
  
On his knees, pushing your legs up, Hades makes love like a man possessed; plunging into you hard and fast, giving you no time to recover - or to consider anything logically. Only instinct guides you now, hot wet sex and primal feeling. Like an incubus he watches as his cock thrusts over and over, sack slapping lewdly against your smooth legs.   
  
"Say it!" he growls with _need;_ need for release, for reassurance.   
  
"Hades!" you cry, and his eyes are like sunlight. Beaming down, he looks ready to weep. But there is only happiness there.... happiness, and powerful lust. "Come for me, Hades," you moan, feeling a sudden pulse on his cock; stiffening, you convulse around him, as burning hot seed pumps deep into you. Both of you bathing in waves of pleasure, he rides you through your second orgasm.  
  
There you lay for quite some time, joined together as he holds you. Eventually, you turn to face him, only to find him sleeping there. Peaceful bliss colors his face, and you decide to save questions for later. Curling up near him, your eyes wander the room.... You recognize this place - flowers, gathered from the city garden... but when? Time here feels muddled and out of sync. Wrapped in his arms, you reflect on the precious, ancient memory.

> "That wasn't too much of a bore, was it...?" 
> 
> You can't see his face under his hood, but you can hear the smile in his words when he speaks to you. You'd been strolling for some time away from the Concert Hall. Under the fading pink light of sunset, you enjoy the caress of his hand, weaving in and out of your fingers. 
> 
> But now, the city's elegant lamplights flicker on as night falls; and a cold wind glides over you, carrying sweet, floral smells from the purple-flowered trees along the promenade.
> 
> Instinctively you press into his warm, tall frame, glancing a bit upwards to see his hood blown back. Those bright, golden eyes always caught you off guard. Glimmering pools, so familiar and loved, yet so filled with tempting mystery. In spite of all the ages you'd known him, Hades always kept your attention with that strange and beautiful gaze.
> 
> You run a hand through his soft, dark hair, tussling the odd lock of white. "Would that the music never ended," you say, fondly recalling the evening's symphony. Suddenly, his eyes light up -before you can think, the world spins round you. **_Snap_** , you hear, and then music plays, jazzy and quick and you find yourself laughing, loudly, heartily. Whirling you through this dizzying waltz, Hades is mischief and wild affection. Out in the street for all to see, how you love him in that moment. 
> 
> "Who says it must?" he sings, swaying with you to conjured rhythm. Over his shoulder you see other Amaurotines look on and smile, then go on their way. You're both fairly well known in the city - and you can't help but giggle, almost childishly, at the scene you're making. How in spite of your titles and positions, the man dancing with you makes you feel so young, so complete. The waltz slows, and he beams at you, cooing, "I'll dance with you for an age." 
> 
> "Oh, Hades," you sigh, trying, and failing to regain composure as he softly kisses your neck, "Even you'd tire of that," you say jokingly. 
> 
> He looks serious for a moment - as ever, those gilded eyes set you off-balance, nearly disrupting the rhythm of your dance. But he's watching your every step, guiding and holding you close. Solemnly, deeply, you hear him say, "Never."

**Author's Note:**

> Things moved fast, but it feels right. Emet's been waiting a long time for this.
> 
> In memories of Amaurot, I imagine Hades as physically similar to Solus, just without the third eye.


End file.
